Dragonheart
by DarkStrider
Summary: Crippled with a fatal heart condition. Kidnapped, experimented upon, changed. What does one do with power equal unto a god? Rage. Rage until the dying of the light.
1. Chapter 1

Dragonheart, a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction.

Disclaimer: Buffy is owned by Joss Whedon and Co. other characters are copywrite of their respective inventors. This story is not written for profit but merely for entertainment.

Chapter 1

The fight had been going well, in his estimation. Despite the rapidly forming bruises on his stomach and chest, he'd managed to bag himself a vamp and Buffy was doing the whole Slayer thing and making the cemetery into an overgrown dust receptacle.

The blonde grinned at him and made her way around the headstones in his direction, carefully stepping around the various areas of disturbed earth to avoid getting any stains on her pristine white pumps.

"Hey, Xan, you okay?" she asked. He gave her a goofy grin and thumped his chest vigorously.

"Me man, me strong!" he quipped, carefully concealing the wince caused by the tender spot near his heart.

"Cool, though I wish you wouldn't just jump in, you know," Buffy chastised.

"I'll try to be more careful in future, Buff," he said, an easy grin on his face. It faltered for a moment as the pain in his chest intensified significantly before he managed to shore it up again. Buffy frowned and peered at her friend.

"You okay, Xan? You're not looking so hot," she stated. He waived her off with one hand, the other pressed to his left side.

"No worries, Buff," he muttered, "must be a stitch, that's all." The blonde appeared unconvinced and moved closer.

"You're really pale," she murmured, her eyes skittering over his features in concern. He grunted, bending over in an attempt to alleviate the growing pain in his chest.

"I'll be fine!" he insisted stubbornly through gritted teeth. The pain continued to squeeze at his chest, and he felt like someone was simultaneously trying to burn him alive and crush the breath from his lungs. He barely registered dropping to his knees but took some solace in the gloriously cool grass as it tickled his face, the scent of dirt and grass filling his nose as his vision began to grow dark around the edges.

"S-sorry, Buff," he whispered, recognising her voice as she frantically called his name and tried to pry his hands away from where they clutched at his sweater.

Her voice was the last thing that he heard as the fire in his chest seemed to spasm and drove him into unconsciousness.

"Xander! Stay with me!"

Awareness came back to him slowly, the soft beep of a heart rate monitor clueing him in to his location. Opening his eyes, Xander winced and tried raising an arm to cover his face from the harsh light, but merely managed to make his arm flop around like a fish out of water. Grimacing, he slowly allowed his eyes to open farther, resolving his surroundings into blurry shapes that slowly gained definition as he blinked away his gummy lids.

"Hey, Xander," a soft voice interjected from his left. He lolled his head in that direction and found himself confronted by a familiar head of red hair. A few more blinks and her features came into focus, showing him her red-rimmed eyes.

"'Sup," he croaked, managing a half-hearted smile. "Feels like I got hit by a train," he continued, slurring the words slightly. He watched Willow's expression waver before tears began spilling from her eyes.

"Oh, Xander!" she sobbed as she lunged forward, "I'm so sorry!" From there her words only degenerated into incomprehensible gibberish and half-formed words that even his extensive experience with willow-babble couldn't decipher.

"What for?" he managed after a while. He knew that his weakness couldn't be a good sign, but was at a loss as to what had happened as he didn't think that the vampire he had dusted had tagged him that badly. A new voice intruded on the awkward moment.

"Hello, Xander," Giles greeted from the door. He looked exhausted, his face drawn and lined far worse than any other time that the young Scooby had seen him, even after his time at the hands of Angelus.

"'Sup, G-man," Xander repeated, his right hand ineffectually attempting to soothe his best friend with small strokes of her elbow.

"Quite a lot, I'm afraid," the older man murmured as he pulled up a chair next to the young witch. "I've alerted the doctor's to your status and they will be here shortly to explain. I'm afraid to say that they have contacted your parents as well, who will be here shortly." The teen winced and allowed his neck to relax, bringing his gaze back to the sterile ceiling of the ward.

"Great," he muttered. "Buff?" he asked softly as willow drew back and dabbed at her eyes.

"She, she had to go, go home," willow said, haltingly. "Her Mo-mom said that sh-she could come back later."

"Long as she's okay," Xander said. Giles gave a sad smile and nodded his appreciation for the concern before his attention was caught by the small group that had appeared at the door.

"Willow, we should leave, for now," he murmured as he gently helped her to her feet. To Xander, he said, "We'll be back later, alright?" The young teen nodded, trying not to worry at the bone-deep weariness that felt like a suffocating cloud on his mind. His brown eyes lazily dragged themselves over to his parents as they entered with a man in a white coat and clipboard. Doctor, his mind supplied. The man, in his mid-forties with rapidly greying brown hair, looked grim. Not a good sign.

"How are you feeling, Alexander?" the man asked. "My name is Dr. Henderson and I've been monitoring your condition."

"Feel like crap," Xander replied, his eyes firmly fixed on his parents, or more specifically his father's warning expression.

"Yes, I'm afraid that is only to be expected," dr. Henderson said. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Due to a congenital defect present from birth that caused a narrowing of your arteries and veins, you have suffered a myocardial infarction. That means that your coronary artery became blocked and was unable to receive any oxygen for a while. We have treated the blockage by a procedure called angioplasty, which uses a small balloon to stretch the artery to allow blood to flow past, but I'm afraid your heart has suffered significant damage."

"So what does that mean for me, doc?" Xander said. Dr. Henderson glanced at his parents, whose unusually stoic expressions caused him some concern.

"It means you need a heart transplant, Alexander," he said. Xander's father stirred.

"How much is this gonna cost?" he stated bluntly. Henderson paused for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

"If costs are a problem, Medic-Aid might be able to help," he tried. The elder Harris' expression turned thunderous.

"Are you sayin' we need handouts?" he asked, his tone dangerous. Xander watched with a heavy heart as his father's pride reared its ugly head.

"No, of course not, Mr Harris, I merely meant that in order to save your son's life-"

"We've not taken handouts and we never will!" Anthony Harris snapped. "How much?" he demanded again. Henderson glanced at the young man lying on the hospital bed and saw a weary soul gazing back.

"More than you can afford," he answered reluctantly. "Thousands of dollars," he clarified, pulling his gaze from the teenager on the bed an meeting the angry look of the boy's father. After a moment, the senior Harris grunted and gave his son a dour look.

"Always causing trouble," he muttered to himself. "Fine. We'll look into it." Henderson found himself unable to say anything else before both parents started for the door, the mother giving her son a nervous, unsure look before she disappeared around the door frame.

"Don't worry about it, doc," Xander murmured. "So, give it to me straight. What are my chances?" Henderson pursed his lips and met the boy's level stare.

"A few months, at the most. It took you a long time to get you here. By the time we were able to administer proper medical aid, the damage had been done. You were clinically dead for about five minutes. It's a wonder you haven't suffered any brain damage, but the scans show that you were lucky."

"Not much up here to kill off, doc," Xander joked, pointing listlessly toward his head. Henderson smiled at the depreciating humour.

"I'm sure that's not true," he said, patting the boy on the shoulder. "But I'm hopeful that we will find something soon. The young are a higher priority, after all."

"Thanks, doc," Xander whispered, his eyes beginning to droop.

"You're welcome," Henderson replied, making his way to the door and dropping the boy's chart in its holder at the end of the bed as he passed. Glancing along the corridors and seeing that they were deserted, he walked briskly to the nearest stairwell and took out his cell.

Hitting the speed dial, he waited three rings before he heard the call connect to silence. "It's Henderson," he clarified, "I've found a suitable candidate." He paused, listening to the voice on the other end. "Yes, Alexander Harris. Yes, he is. The Slayer, yes. I will. When should I expect them? Friday? Yes, sir. I believe that there is a suitable place nearby. Yes, sir. I'll need a full team in order to complete it successfully. Thank you, sir. Goodbye." Disconnecting, he looked out the window at the California sky. "God forgive me," he prayed softly.


	2. Chapter 2

Dragonheart, a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction.

Disclaimer: Buffy is owned by Joss Whedon and Co. other characters are copywrite of their respective inventors. This story is not written for profit but merely for entertainment.

Chapter 2

Three days. Three days of boring, mind-numbing TV, terrible food and over-attentive female friends, Xander thought. The last wasn't so bad, except his dearest friends seemed to have come to the conclusion that a heart condition meant that his mind had gone 'plip' and meandered off somewhere to get shot.

"I know how to move pillows, Wills," he said dryly as the redhead readjusted them for the fifth time in ten minutes. "I'm perfectly comfortable."

"But, but," willow spluttered, "posture is really important for, um, stuff," she concluded lamely. Xander eyeballed her in amusement.

"It's okay, Wills," he said, "stop worrying. They'll find a donor. I've got a little time." Willow blinked rapidly, obviously once again trying to suppress her tears.

"But," she ventured, "what if they don't?" Xander cracked a weary smile.

"Then that's the way things go," he soothed. "Everyone dies sometime, Wills."

"But I don't want you to die!" she exclaimed as tears began to streak her face. Xander gently wiped the first few away before gently tugging her closer to nestle in the crook of his neck.

"I don't want to either, Wills," he murmured, feeling as if his mind were on the verge of exhaustion. "I don't want to either." They sat like that for an indeterminate length of time before a soft knock drew them out of their combined listlessness. Looking up, Xander saw Henderson in the doorway, a gentle smile on his face. "Hey," Xander greeted, "what's up doc?"

"Some good news, Xander," Henderson said, "we may have found a donor. I'll be talking to your parents soon, they're on their way now as it so happens."

"That's great!" willow squeaked, a joyful grin breaking out across her face. Xander nodded in agreement.

"Told ya, Wills," he pointed out, blinking his eyes slowly to try and clear the graininess. Willow beamed, clearly pleased with the development.

"Yes, well, it's only a possibility at the moment, and we may have to temporarily transfer you to another facility to allow the transplant to take place, but we won't know until the donation is one hundred percent agreed," Henderson interjected. Before Xander could ask where he might be taken to, the doctor's beeper chirruped. "Ah, I need to take care of something," he said. "I'll be back soon." He was gone before they could say anything else, leaving them to blink at the abruptness of his departure.

Henderson closed the door to the stairwell carefully and checked up and down the stairs to see if anyone else was present before taking out his cell and hitting the speed dial.

"What is it?" he asked, and then paused to hear the reply. "Tonight? Are you certain? Yes, I can, but what about the team?" He paused again, listening intently. "Fifth and Carson? Yes, I'll be there. What about the boy? Alright. But after this, you'll leave me alone? Fine, I will. Goodbye." He shut the phone off with a sigh and rubbed at his eyes for a moment, deep in thought. After several minutes he pushed away from the wall that he had leant against and exited the stairwell. The corridor was mostly deserted, only the two nurses at the station present, and both were embroiled in the numerous pieces of paperwork for the various patients.

"Stephanie?" he called as he approached, "can you prepare the paperwork for Alexander Harris' transport? The donation has been confirmed for tonight." Stephanie, a brunette middle-aged career nurse with a pleasantly plump face and warm brown eyes, nodded after a moment of surprise.

"So soon doctor?" she said. Henderson gave a small grin and nodded.

"Looks like someone on high is looking out for the kid," he said. Stephanie smiled back.

"I'll have the paperwork ready in a few minutes, doctor," she said.

"Thanks, Stephanie," Henderson said and began making his way to the hospital foyer to meet young Xander's parents.

He arrived just as the Harrises signed in at reception and allowed another warm smile to bloom on his face.

"Mr Harris, Mrs Harris," he said. Anthony grunted sourly.

"Doctor Henderson," he replied in turn. Jessica remained silent, only lifting her hand briefly in a rather lacklustre wave.

"I have some good news, we've located a donor for your son," Henderson said. Anthony's face didn't so much as flicker.

"Yeah, we were told," he said bluntly. Henderson blinked in surprise.

"You were?" he said. Anthony nodded.

"Yeah, we worked something out," he said. Henderson spotted ill concealed glee shining in the elder Harris' eyes and felt his stomach turn unpleasantly. "They said you'd been told too. So what next?" Henderson licked his lips, an unpleasant picture beginning to form in his mind of just what was going on.

"Ah, your son will need to be transferred to the site where the transplant will take place tonight and-"

"Whatever," Anthony interrupted, "he gets taken to this place, the op happens and he's fine, great. What do we need to do?" he said, placing special emphasis on the 'we.' Henderson essayed a tight smile and gestured to the elevators.

"Just sign some paperwork consenting to the procedure," he said and led them into the walnut panelled cube. The ride up was a tense affair, the Harris woman darting nervous glances at the other two men until with a loud tone, the doors opened onto the fourth floor. "Here we are," Henderson said as he approached the nurses station. "Stephanie? Do you have the Harris transfer papers and consent forms?" Stephanie looked up and smiled briefly before her eyes lit upon the two Harrises, whereupon her smile marginally escaped becoming a grimace.

"Yes doctor. Here they are," she said as she passed them over. Glancing down, Henderson verified that the correct forms were there before passing them over to Anthony. "Thank you, Stephanie. Here you are Mr Harris," he said.

"Thanks," Anthony muttered, quickly scribbling his signature and passing it to his wife who visibly hesitated until a glare from her husband prompted her to sign. "Here," Anthony said, passing the clipboard back. Henderson nodded his thanks and passed the forms back to Stephanie.

"Can you file these please?" he asked. Stephanie nodded and, with a last wintry look at the elder Harrises, began completing the electronic data as a precursor to the transfer. "Well, that's it for now. Xander will be transferred in about an hour and the procedure should take about five hours or so. Do you have any questions?" Henderson asked. Harris shook his head.

"No," he said, cutting off his wife who had opened her mouth. She closed it swiftly after a glare from Anthony and studied the floor. "Just let us know when everything's done," Anthony said. Henderson nodded.

"Of course, Mr. Harris," he said. "Did you want to see your son?" Anthony paused and caught his wife's silent plea.

"Sure, I guess," he said gruffly. Henderson nodded and led them down the hall to Xander's room, knocking twice before entering. On the bed, Xander gave a tired attempt at a jaunty wave and a tight, brittle smile at the sight of his parents and his friend visibly deflated when she saw them and leant over to give her friend a hug.

"You take care, okay? We'll all be right there when you wake up," she said. Awkwardly patting his friend on her shoulder, Xander nodded.

"I look forward to it, Wills," he said. "Now scoot. Looks like the doc has some stuff to tell me." The redhead nodded and stood up to leave, pausing before Henderson.

"Doctor Henderson?" she said.

"Yes, miss Rosenberg?" he replied.

"You never said where Xander was being taken," she said. Henderson felt another smile stretch across his face.

"Ah, of course, my apologies. We're taking him to the **Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Centre in Los Angeles. It's one of the best in the country," he said. Willow smiled gratefully and, with a last wave to her friend, left. "So, Xander, how do you feel?" Henderson said. Xander shrugged uncomfortably, his eyes never leaving his parents.**

**"Same ole', same ole'," he said. He watched his mother carefully as she approached, looking uncertain as she gently caressed his face before giving him a quick hug.**

**"You take care," she murmured softly in his ear.**

**"I will, mom. Say," Xander began, "how are we affording this? Three days ain't enough time to apply for help," he said. Jessica settled herself on the bed, uncomfortably aware of her husband's gaze boring steadily into her back.**

**"Doctor Henderson has given us a lot of help," she said carefully, "and put us in touch with some nice people who agreed to help with the costs."**

**"Who?" Xander asked, feeling puzzled as to why anyone would agree to help.**

**"Wolfram and Hart, a law firm," Anthony interrupted. "Jessica, the boy needs sleep," he stated firmly. **

**"I do?" Xander commented to himself. Jessica nibbled her lip for a moment before nodding and returning to her husband's side. "And why would a law firm help us? Dad? Mom?" he called, seeing them beginning to walk out the door. "Hey!"**

**Henderson smiled in a comforting manner.**

**"I know that it's a little scary," he said, "but try to get some rest. We're moving you in an hour or so to the facility where we'll do the transplant." Xander sighed and gave the doctor a troubled look.**

**"Yeah, okay. Uh, are you gonna be there for the op?" he asked. Henderson's smile faded slightly.**

**"Yes, I will," he said, "I'll be working with an excellent set of staff, and I'm confident that the operation will go smoothly. Just get some rest."**

**"Sure, doc," Xander said, wiggling to get into a more comfortable position. "See you later." Henderson gave a small smile and nodded before he left. Outside the room he spotted an older, slightly ghoulish looking man standing by the nurses station.**

**"Can I help you?" he asked as he approached, taking in the tailored suit that implied great expense. The man smiled, his lined face creasing into a pleasant smile that was at odds with his cold, calculating eyes.**

**"Hello, Dr. Henderson," he said simply. Henderson felt the blood in his veins turn to ice as he stopped before the other man.**

**"What?" he stammered, "what are you doing here?" Manners' wide smile thinned into a more calculating expression.**

**"Did you think that this project would not be overseen? The senior partners are taking a very close interest in this. After all, we have made such a large investment toward procuring the asset, have we not? I'm sure that our help toward your degree is highly appreciated, and I want you to know that we value your skills." Henderson licked his lips nervously, his eyes flickering up and down the corridor. "Oh don't worry, doctor. We're quite alone out here, I made sure of that. Now, what say we discuss the procedure?" Manners said, gesturing down the hall with one hand, his pleasant expression firmly in place. Henderson swallowed.**

**"Of course," he said, weakly.**

**Xander was revived from his drowse by the sound of movement. Blearily opening his eyes he saw a pair of solemn paramedics in blue uniforms preparing his bed for travel.**

**"'Sup, guys," he greeted, "I'm gonna get heart surgery! How cool is that?" In truth it was terrifying, but he felt it was better to extol the awesomeness rather than dwell on the fact that his ribs were going to be cracked open like a walnut to expose his beating heart. They looked at him for a moment before continuing with their preparations silently. He felt a little unnerved, but decided to try again. "So, you guys do this often? Take guys so life-changing surgery, I mean," he amended. Neither responded again and he was beginning to become a little creeped out when doctor Henderson reappeared again, looking a little harried.**

**"Hello, Xander," he said, "are you ready to go?" Xander shrugged awkwardly, feeling the urge to completely freak out and trying to keep it together.**

**"Ready as I'm gonna be, I guess," he admitted. "And what's with the silent twins?" he stage whispered, indicating the two paramedics that moved around his bed with a determined air. "They're kinda creeping me out," he admitted. Henderson gave the pair an indecipherable look.**

**"Well, they come highly recommended," he said, "I'm sure that they're just extremely professional. Not to worry though, you'll be in LA before you can blink!" As he talked, one of the paramedics swiftly took out a syringe and sank it into the IV that fed into Xander's left arm whilst the young man's attention was elsewhere and before he registered the action, Xander felt himself growing increasingly lethargic.**

**"Whuss goin'n?" he mumbled, feeling confused as his eyes dropped. The last thing he saw and heard was Henderson's apologetic face and his words.**

**"I'm sorry, Xander, I really am. But I have no choice," he said.**

**Henderson watched the young boy finally succumb to the anaesthetic and fixed the culprit with a harsh look.**

**"That wasn't necessary," he snapped. The paramedic glared.**

**"His jabbering got on my nerves," he snarled, his low, guttural voice giving his inhuman nature away easily. Henderson glowered.**

**"This is his last taste of freedom," he said, "the least you could have done is let him savour it!" The demon in human guise snorted.**

**"I care not," it said. The other paramedic grinned, exposing several rows of spindly, razor sharp teeth.**

**"His flesh looks tender. A pity we cannot savour him!" it joked. The pair broke out into laughter that sounded more like sickly coughing to Henderson. He grimaced, sickened at the idea of working with such disgusting creatures, but considering the considerable hold that wolfram and hart had over him and the possibility of being free from their clutches, he was willing to do anything. Even sell out a defenceless teenager. Loathing himself even more, he turned and walked away, hearing the two demons follow along with the bed and its cargo.**

**A few minutes later they arrived at the loading bay, once more curiously devoid of any of the usual staff. Knowing the possible reasons, Henderson decided it was better that he not know as he climbed into rear of the small truck and surveyed the contents. Shelves filled with equipment lined the walls, including surgical tools, respirators, dialysis machines and many others necessary to perform the operation. At the far end, Holland Manners sat in a comfortable looking leather chair that was bolted to the floor.**

**"Hello again, doctor. Won't you sit down?" he said, gesturing at the other less comfortable looking chair opposite. Henderson smothered a grimace and seated himself as several other disguised demons appeared to assist with loading Xander into the truck.**

**"Mr. Manners," he said, "I hope this is not going to be where this takes place. It's not sterile." Holland chuckled and shook his head.**

**"Of course not, my dear doctor. I would never dream of endangering our asset," he said. Henderson frowned.**

**"His name is Alexander Harris," he said, "he is not an asset, he's a person." Manners' smile dimmed into a faintly annoyed look, emphasised by the darkened bags below his eyes.**

**"He is an asset of wolfram and hart, doctor. Soon to be a major asset. Don't forget why you are here. You want to be free of your debt, don't you?" he asked. Henderson glanced at the unconscious teen and pursed his lips. Despite how unethical and horrible it was to contemplate, if it got him free of his debt, he would do anything.**

**"Yes," he muttered eventually. Manners smiled, triumph gleaming in his eyes.**

**"Good," he said, "just do what you're told and it will all be over soon." Henderson sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.**

**"You've still not told me exactly what it is you are going to have me do," he said. Manners shrugged.**

**"A simple heart transplant," he said, "exchanging one defective heart for another healthy one. Nothing complicated or too dissimilar to what you have performed before. There is a reason that we shepherded your training so closely, you know. All to prepare you for this moment, when you will be free and can become the best heart surgeon in the USA. Aren't you excited?"**

**Henderson looked at the unconscious teen as the rear doors swung shut and the artificial lighting came on.**

**"No," he said, "not really. What about the boy? What will happen to him afterward?" Manners smiled, though sign of happiness reached his eyes.**

**"Nothing much, he'll just come and work for us," he said. "He'll be well cared for, I assure you." Henderson doubted it, but couldn't find anything wrong with the statement and so sat in silence as they continued on their way to the site of the operation. Some twenty minutes passed before he sensed the truck slowing down.**

**"Where are we?" he asked as the truck came to a stop and the doors were opened by the still human-looking troupe. Manners looked amused.**

**"Still in Sunnydale," he said, gesturing for Henderson to leave first. He did so, conscious of the less than trustworthy man at his back, and hopped off of the back of the truck, glancing around at their location. It was a large, deserted warehouse, illuminated by twelve large spotlights that hung from the ceiling nearly three storeys above. Smack bang in the middle of the gargantuan floor, a relatively small square area had been enclosed in semi-transparent plastic curtains used in surgical environments, inside of which he could see a fully equipped operating theatre. He swung back around to face Manners, who looked pleased.**

**"You want me to operate here?" Henderson exclaimed, his voice levering up an octave. "In the middle of a god-damn warehouse? Are you crazy?" Manners didn't bat an eye at his outburst, merely walking toward the makeshift operating room and gazing at it through the plastic.**

**"Stop worrying, doctor Henderson, remember that young Mr. Harris is very important to us. Do you think that we would endanger him in any way? I can assure you I only want this operation to succeed. Now, are you going to scrub up?" he said, gesturing to the portable washbasin within the sealed plastic room. Henderson glowered for a moment before moving to the entrance and going in. inside, he vigorously began scrubbing, barely paying any attention as the small enclosed space began to fill with others. When he was done, he started with surprise as a nurse appeared from over his shoulder and helped him into the surgical gloves.**

**"thank you," he murmured, feeling uneasy at the cold, dead look in the woman's eyes.**

**"You're welcome," she hissed, the mask over most of her face obscuring her mouth. Henderson stared with wide eyes as she walked off with a sibilant, hissing laugh.**

**"Oh god, what am I doing?" he whispered to himself.**

**"Your job, Mr. Henderson," Manners answered from behind him. Henderson whipped around, startled once more, to see the other man smirking from the other side of the plastic wall. "Just to let you know, doctor Henderson, I can hear everything," he said, tapping the plastic meaningfully and causing previously invisible sigils to ripple into existence momentarily. Manners gave a shark-like smile. "I'd be careful what you call any of your colleagues, if I were you." Henderson swallowed and turned to find Xander laid out on the operating table as several figures clad in scrubs moved methodically around.**

**From the corner of his eye he saw the arrival of a van, its windows an impenetrable black that matched the colour of its paint. "Ah," Manners murmured, "our guests of honour have arrived. Excellent." The van disgorged eight figures shrouded head to toe in inky black robes belted with blood red rope. The lead figure carried a black chest that made his stomach churn and skin crawl violently, and when they drew closer he was just able to make out the hideous scenes etched into the side, depicting death and torture by fire.**

**"Oh god," he whispered.**

**"No gods here, doctor," a male nurse rasped, his inhuman reptilian eyes pinning Henderson to the spot. He watched, disgusted, as the flesh around the man's eyes seemed to writhe and squirm beneath his skin, briefly giving the impression of horrendous growths and horns before settling down. Shivering, he tore his gaze away and back to the newcomers just in time to see them begin to inscribe a gigantic circle on the floor around the operating theatre using a dark paint taken from an ornate urn that one hooded figure held. He strongly suspected the paint was blood, but couldn't bring himself to ask. One of the 'nurses,' that he now was certain were demons, returned from outside with the chest, and placed it carefully next to the operating table on a suspended tray attached to the one that held all of the surgical tools that he was going to be using.**

**He stood in a daze as other figures in scrubs came and went, bringing various other pieces of equipment from the truck to complete the setup. When the last piece was brought, one of the nurses chanted under her breath in a guttural, repulsive tongue as a bright light built between her hands. Shrieking the last few syllables, it built to blinding intensity, forcing him to shut his eyes or risk his sight, before suddenly fading away. Blinking in confusion, he saw the woman move closer to Manners.**

**"It's now sterilised, sir," she said. Manners nodded.**

**"Thank you, Yktrllk," he said, smoothly and then looked at Henderson. "Are you ready? As you can see, everything is prepared."**

**"What about the donor heart?" Henderson found himself asking before he thought about it. Manners gave another reptilian smile and nodded toward the chest.**

**"It's right in there. Perfectly preserved from when it was harvested nearly fifty thousand years ago." Henderson stared at the wolfram and hart lawyer incredulously.**

**"W-what? Fifty thousand years? What are you having me put in him?" he demanded. Manners' smile disappeared and he pinned the doctor with a severe look.**

**"That is none of your concern, doctor Henderson. I suggest you get a move on. We don't have that much time, and I'm sure your wife and daughter are eager to see you again," he said. Henderson did not miss the significance of the statement.**

**"What have you done to them?" he asked. Manners' face remained carefully blank.**

**"Nothing, doctor, I assure you. They are merely being entertained at our offices by one of my colleagues. Now," he said, "start the procedure." Henderson swallowed at the implied threat and moved toward the recumbent figure on the table, allowing his training and expertise to take over as he methodically sliced through skin and muscle and cracked open the ribcage. Minutes and then hours began to go by as he carefully transferred the boy to bypass and removed his heart, carefully placing it on the silver dish provided by one of the assisting nurses. He avoided thinking about what might happen to it.**

**He came back to himself when the box was opened and the heart he was meant to transplant was exposed.**

**"It's three times the size!" he protested, glaring at Manners. "How can I graft this? There is no way that it will fit!" The lawyer from wolfram and hart merely smirked.**

**"Magic," he replied, nodding to one of the nurses stood poised over the open box. The man began chanting, his voice barely audible as more than a series of whispers as he gently cradled the monstrously sized heart between his hands and began lowering it into the cavity left by the removed heart. Henderson frowned.**

**"What are you doing? Stop! It's too big! You'll tear something and he could bleed out!" he said, reaching forward to stop the others actions, only to stop when he felt the spine chilling prick of something razor sharp at his jugular.**

**"You're no use now," the guttural voice of the initial demon paramedic ground gleefully into his ear. He had no time to say anything else before the creature shredded its mask and sank its needle-like teeth into the soft flesh of his neck, tearing and thrashing in a frenzy. The pain was excruciating but his frantic struggles and gargled screams availed him nothing at all until he sagged in the demon's grip, its teeth continuing their gruesome feasting upon his flesh.**

**"Such a shame," Holland murmured, "if he'd been a bit less of a bleeding heart he could have gone so far. Never mind though." He signalled the closest of the cowled figures arrayed around the painted circle. "Begin," he said. The figure bowed its head and simultaneously began a low, urgent chant with its brethren.**

**In the operating room, the demon finished it's whispered chant as it placed the heart into position and completed the ritual. He looked up to Manners and nodded, just as the boy awoke and began to thrash and scream in agony.**


	3. Chapter 3

Dragonheart, a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction.

Disclaimer: Buffy is owned by Joss Whedon and Co. other characters are copywrite of their respective inventors. This story is not written for profit but merely for entertainment.

Chapter 3

It started with a niggling itch that rapidly bloomed into the sensation of a billion shards of razor sharp glass tumbling along every vein in his body, tearing at him from the inside out. Blissful unconsciousness was ripped away abruptly, and a tortured howl burst loose as everything registered all at once.

His body was on fire, it was freezing and shattering into a hundred million tiny pieces, knives were dragging over his skin and raw acid seemed to claw at his eyeballs, turning every nerve in his body into a shrieking charnel house of pain. Xander felt bones in his hands and arms snap and warp, the bones grating over each other brutally and making him thrash helplessly. He dimly realised that others were nearby, but all he could feel was the endless, yawning chasm of pain that radiated from his chest to every part of his body.

Some distant part of his brain registered his skin bursting and something coming out everywhere, and that people were trying to hold him down, but everywhere they touched felt like hot needles were being jabbed deep into his flesh, and he thrashed harder, desperate to free himself.

One man came too close to his flailing arm as he tried to pin it down and Xander gripped his head with one bloody hand and squeezed, trying to get the man to let go. He felt brief surprise as his fingers, now razor sharp, sliced into the man's skull and allowed him to crush his head like a grape, but the overwhelming tide of agony quickly quashed rational thought. Others tried to keep him down, but Xander continued to thrash, realising that his dagger-like fingers made effective weapons in his bid for freedom.

He roared as the gritty stabbing in his chest signified his ribs grinding back into place, and shortly afterward the horrible burning feeling of his skin flaying off registered. Something big and red came close, it's yellow eyes gleaming evilly at him as it flexed hands bigger than his torso in anticipation, but all he could concentrate on was the terrible, endless burning that overtook his entire body.

It moved closer, seeming to glide in slow motion toward him, and he snarled, feeling like a cornered animal. Thoughts pin wheeled crazily through his head in a fractured kaleidoscope of impressions and images before instinct took over and he lashed out, removing most of its face in a single blow that spewed a thick, deep purple ichor in a torrent behind him as he moved past.

Most of the pain was beginning to subside now, and he felt almost cocooned in whatever covered his body, though that was a secondary concern that he dismissed as soon as the thought registered. All he cared about now was the molten river of rage that erupted inside as he managed to catch a glimpse of himself in a metal tray. Red and black scales, fangs, a flash of snow white hair.

Rational thought faded away as he gave rise to his wrath, rending the flesh of anything that came near. His world devolved into blood and offal and screams, both his own enraged howls and the terrified, panic stricken squealing of his victims as he rent them limb from limb. When it was over and silence descended he span, red, reptilian eyes flickering back and forth, seeking other victims. None remained.

The mobile theatre that he had been operated on within was in tatters, machinery mixed with the corpses of the creatures that they had been used to bludgeon to death, tools and equipment clutched desperately in hand or claw. Most were not human. A few were, or appeared so. Their blood was the right colour at least, and their shredded innards appeared to conform to the norm.

Xander wondered if he should feel repulsed, but only felt strangely empty and hollow as he moved away. He spared a brief glance at the remains of a big rig, now meshed with the rapidly decaying corpse of something large and grey. Huge gashes had rent the metal chassis of the cab and trailer, and a raised hand confirmed the size seemed to match that of his own transformed hands. He shuddered.

"What am I?" he whispered, staring off into the darkness for several long minutes. After a little while he shook himself and decided to take stock. He moved back toward the shattered operating theatre and studiously ignored all the corpses as he sought out the metal tray he vaguely remembered. When he finally found it, he retreated away from the mess and scrutinised his appearance

His eyes were definitely no longer human he decided, more reptilian, with deep scarlet irises and a black vertical gash for a pupil. They seemed to make everything more vivid to his sight, and he took some solace from that, though that was eliminated when he took a deeper look at himself. His hair was now the colour of freshly fallen snow, and stuck up in all directions. He ran a finger along one of the strands and realised that it felt ever so slightly bristly. Great.

Protruding from the bone of his skull behind his ears and jutting straight forward over his temples were two horns, both mostly yellow that faded to a dark orange closer to his ears. Most of his skin was replaced with dark red scales, almost black in most cases, and his chest and forearms were the thickest, making dull sounds when he rapped on them. All ten fingers and toes were tipped with razor sharp talons, apparently capable of rending metal as easy as flesh. He tried scratching one of the scales and was surprised to find that not even his talons were able to scratch the thick plates that covered him.

After a few minutes he noticed that what he thought was skin on his face and genitalia was in fact thousands upon thousands of tiny, flesh coloured scales just as hard as those over the rest of his body, and they glistened slightly like powdered diamonds in the light.

"What the hell did they do to me?" he wondered aloud, and was thankful that his voice at least still belonged to him. He still looked like himself facially as well and stored those two nuggets of luck away to cherish against the several metric tonnes of shit that his life had become. "I have to find the guys. They'll know what to do," he muttered to himself.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, young man," a voice interrupted. Xander glanced up, surprised to realise that he hadn't noticed the arrival of the grey-haired man and the large group of armed men with him. He had a vague memory of seeing someone with grey hair when he first awoke, but had no face to put to the memory. That did not however, stop him from making the logical conclusion.

"What did you do to me!?" he demanded hotly. The man, his face lined and wrinkled, smiled thinly.

"That is none of your concern," he said, then gestured to the burly man next to him clothed head to toe in black. "Take him down, but I want him alive for the priests to complete the ritual," he said. Without a word the group, Xander counted nearly twenty men armed with guns, pointed them at Xander and opened fire.

Xander flinched and brought his hands up to his face, expecting to be riddled with bullets, only to grunt and step back as he felt multiple dull impacts across his body. He lowered his hands and looked down to see the flattened bullets littered all around his feet.

"Holy shit," he muttered, and raised his eyes to look straight down the barrel of a sawn off shotgun. "Ah cr-" The gun went off before he could complete his sentence and his world exploded with stars as he fell back, likening the feeling to being punched by a Slayer. "Ow," he grunted, flinching when multiple shotgun blasts hammered into his body point blank. Growling, he kicked out with a clawed foot, catching the man at the knee and snapping it as if it were a twig. The masked man screamed and fell to the ground, clutching at his injured leg, and the others swiftly opened fire again, the bullets splattering harmlessly against his scales.

Xander felt a growl rumble deep in his chest as he crouched low, feeling the bullets pelt him in a steady stream as the wounded man crawled away. It was all he needed to feel his rage reignite, turning his blood to fire and spurring him to lunge the thirty feet to the nearest of his armed attackers and tear into his body with his claws.

Whatever armour the man was wearing parted like tissue paper under the force of his landing, and Xander felt a grim satisfaction at the man's gurgled cries before he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Twisting away, he saw another of his attackers overreach with a long hunting knife and stumble on the kicking legs of his comrade. Taking the opportunity, Xander lashed out with one hand, spilling the man's entrails over the concrete.

A savage cry from the rest warned him in time to intercept another attach, and from there everything devolved into a blur of screams, muzzle flashes and gore until a glowing chain of light captured his left arm and jerked him to an abrupt halt. Spitting and snarling, Xander thrashed in an attempt to get free, yet nothing helped to loosen the mystical chain held by a figure in a hooded black robe.

From behind the figure stepped the grey haired man from before, looking pale, but ultimately triumphant.

"I'm afraid you'll be coming back to the office now, Mr. Harris," he said, smiling thinly. Xander, still wanting nothing more than to rend flesh, let loose a stream of epithets as he spotted more robed figures approaching. "You'll make a very valuable asset for Wolfram and Hart once we've gotten you under control," the man said again.

"Who are you?" Xander demanded.

"My name is Holland Manners, Mr. Harris. Although that won't be your name for long, I'm afraid." Xander stilled, his eyes flickering over his surroundings.

"Yeah? And what'll it be next? The Easter Bunny?" he said, slowly reaching for the nearest gun and concealing the motion with his crouched posture. Manners smirked.

"Cute. I wouldn't worry, in a moment you won't ever have to think again," he said. "You can finish the ritual now, Father," he said, addressing the cowled figure holding the mystical chain.

"Wrong," Xander snarled, jinking the chain enough to snatch the sub-machine gun he had been dragging with his foot up and unload the rest of the ammunition into his captor. The figure fell back, releasing the spell that held him as it went, and he sprinted for the nearest wall, praying desperately that he would be able to go straight through it as he had pretty much everything else. Going full tilt, he lowered his horned head just as he hit, and momentarily felt resistance before the corrugated iron parted with a tortured shriek and he escaped into the night.

Behind, Manners glared furiously at the escaping teen and then down at the slowly rising figure in robes at his feet. Without a word, he pulled out a handgun and pointed it at the figure's head.

"We don't tolerate failure," he snarled and pulled the trigger until it clicked empty. The figure stayed still, the robes parted enough to reveal a humanoid covered in lesions and patches of scales, its face a red ruin. Manners turned an emotionless face to the nearest robed figure. "Find him, catch him and break his mind," he ordered flatly. The figure bowed and gestured to its companions and the remnants of the assault group who followed behind, several limping noticeably. Manners watched them go as he methodically emptied the clip and replaced it with a spare before stowing it in the holster under his arm. "There's nowhere you can run, boy," he muttered and then stalked off toward his waiting limousine.

Xander decided that two words perfectly described how he felt at the moment: blind panic. After bursting out of the warehouse where he had been cracked open like an egg, he had simply continued in that direction, running as fast as he could. Which brought him to his current situation; he had no idea where he was but didn't think that he could afford to stop, especially since whatever mojo the robed people could whip up would likely catch him next time as they would be prepared for anything.

It was as he was contemplating the next course of action that he realised just how fast he was running as the scenery blurred past. He skidded to a stop and looked back, goggling slightly at the deep divots his clawed feet had torn in the asphalt as he ran.

"God, can you possibly crap on me any more today?" he snarked as he turned around and continued on his way, well aware that he would normally be extremely out of breath by now. "Thank god for small favours," he muttered. After a few minutes he began to vaguely recognise the area and stopped to breath a sigh of relief. "Good ole' Sunnydale," he said, taking a moment to orient himself and point his way toward the library.

As he ran, allowing his body to act on autopilot whilst he surveyed the area for any vampires, he began to catalogue the changes that he had gone through: super strength, enhanced endurance, armoured scales, horns, fangs, weird eyes, claws on hands and feet and, he sniffed, enhanced senses, judging by the scent of dirt and blood coming from his left. He veered off briefly, spotting a man walking along the sidewalk on his own.

"Hey man, not seen you around, before," the vampire greeted cheerfully until he realised Xander was not going to stop. "Hey, wait!" he exclaimed right before Xander pounced, dug his claws into the undead creature's throat and tore its head off, causing it to disintegrate, the ash sticking to the congealed mess over his body.

"Shit," Xander muttered and then glanced up. "I guess you can," he said and then took off once more toward the library. "I hope Giles can figure this out," he said to himself as he ran, continuing his list. _Where was I?_ he wondered, _oh yeah, freaky hair. And at least I still have my bits!_ He glanced down at the remains of the hospital gown that he had managed to salvage. _Wouldn't want Buffy to take me out for being a flasher,_ he thought. He risked another glance down at the gown and grimaced, realising that it was probably on its last, extremely shaky, legs. _Better swing by home and grab something_, he thought and matched action to thought, heading toward his home.

When he got there, he found the house deserted, its front door wide open. Feeling uneasy, he looked around carefully. Nothing revealed itself in the darkness however, so he forged ahead and entered the front door. Inside, most things were in their usual disorganised state, however after a few tense minutes of inspection he realised that certain things were missing. His father's bowling trophy, some of the paintings on the walls, any paperwork in the usual kitchen drawer that now hung open and every scrap of clothing in their bedroom.

His parents had left with everything that they held dear. Except him. He gave a faint, disgusted snort, reasoning that despite being their son, they held him in little regard and his father, certainly would be fairly happy to avoid the drain on his booze money that he caused by needing food. Hunting around, he took him ten minutes to locate the crumpled letter hidden behind the dustbin from Wolfram and Hart. Barely three seconds after reading, he tore it to shreds with a roar of fury.

His parents had sold him out to Wolfram and Hart for ten million dollars. Or more likely, his father had sold him out and his mother was too terrified to stand up to him.

"I'll kill them," he snarled, hurling the couch against the wall and causing a massive hole in the plaster. The damage shook him out of his rage and he stared at his hands, feeling shaken. "God, what have I become?" he whispered. There was no way he was normally so prone to rage and violence. Whatever had been done to him, he wanted it reversed and fast. And the first thing he needed was pants.

Two minutes later and he was sprinting toward the library at top speed, clad only in black jeans that he barely managed to squeeze into. Apparently his transformation had turned him into a teenaged version of Arnold Schwarzenegger, turning his baggy Hawaiian shirts into instruments of torture. No matter how many he had thrown on, his scales made them impossible to wear without tearing them to shreds. Five had gone the way of the dodo before he had given up and left bare-chested. At least his jeans only had rips near his ankles and knees from his claws and the more prominent, and sharp, scales.

Ten minutes later and he burst through the library doors.

"Giles!" he called, "Giles! Something really freaky happened to me!" he paused. "Hello? Anyone here?" Puzzled, Xander checked the office and found it empty. "Where the hell is everyone?" he wondered, then groaned as he realised. "Oh, god, they've gone to LA to be there for the op," he said miserably and threw himself onto one of the library chairs that creaked ominously. Oblivious, Xander held his head in his hands and scrambled desperately to regain his wits without collapsing in on himself.

"Need a plan," he said, "don't think about it. It's temporary, it's temporary," he assured himself before he gave a grim laugh. "Avoidance thy name is Xander," he said. Wetting his lips, he scrubbed a hand through his snowy mane and concentrated. "Okay, Xan-man, time to put the thinking cap on," he murmured to himself, "get in touch with the guys. Who's got a cell phone? No-one has a cell phone as we're too cheap and Giles hasn't got a clue. Crap. Okay, so it's a two hour drive to LA. So I need a car," he mused. "Where do I get a car?" He thought for a minute before shrugging. "Not like it's a problem to open. Just call me Xander, the walking can opener. Hey, that rhymes!" he chuckled, forcing the laughter to avoid going completely insane.

Deciding on a course of action, he left the school and hunted around until he found a car in a nearby seven-eleven parking lot. Glancing around and spotting no one, he was about to carve open the door when his head exploded in pain and he dropped to the floor. Grinding his teeth to avoid making too much sound, Xander opened his eyes after a moment to see a very large and misshapen bullet.

"Someone headshot me!?" he growled. Considering that it had hit him in the forehead, that meant they were on the other side of the car in front of him. Carefully, he peeked above the bonnet of the Cadillac and felt something whiffle past his ear at high speed a second later. "Holy shit!" he yelped and ducked back down. Although it hadn't killed him, it hurt like hell and knocked him flat on his arse, which he suspected was the point when he heard the fall of heavily booted feet.

Hatred, rage and the bloodthirsty desire to tear them to pieces warred with his desire to run away until he shook himself and risked another glance again. Automatic gunfire erupted from the darkness, the bullets whining through the air around his head and perforating the caddy like Swiss cheese. The deep thunk of a heavy calibre bullet smashing into his cover made Xander growl again before coiling his legs like a spring and flinging himself over the hood toward the nearest source of gunfire.

Sure enough, his assailants were the black-garbed commandoes from before, except this time they were armed to the teeth and ready for his speed. Before he reached them he had been pelted with several powerful shots and took a shotgun blast to the face that threw off his aim and caused him to bodycheck one of the gunmen instead of tear out his throat.

He wrestled with the man momentarily, unable to use his newly enhanced strength before the other five men in the group descended upon him en masse with knives and stun guns. Luckily, none seemed to be able to penetrate his armoured scales, but the stun guns and tazers still hurt. Swiftly they switched to firearms again, and Xander found himself continually knocked off of his feet by shotgun blasts to his head and legs.

He knew that they were stalling to give the robed mystics the chance to arrive and capture him, and felt panic begin to worm its way through his chest as he struggled to rise.

Within the seven-eleven, a blonde woman looked up from inspecting the two bottles of beer in her hands at the sound of gunfire and frowned.

"So much for a quiet bloody holiday," she muttered sourly, putting the bottles back and heading toward the door. Dressed in grey slacks and a white shirt with a matching grey waistcoat, she looked annoyed as she peered out of the nearby window before spotting her car. "Those wankers!" she snarled as she saw the damage. She pushed the door open and stalked outside, careful to check her surroundings to avoid being shot before moving toward the massed gunfire she could spot in one corner of the parking lot. "Oi! Who's going to pay for my car, you pillocks?" she yelled.

One of them broke away from the others and pointed a long gun at her.

"This is none of your business," he said, his black mask obscuring his features. "Get lost." The woman glowered, her blue eyes narrowing in response.

"Get bent you little shit," she said, her accent strengthening. "You turned my car into Swiss cheese, you pay for it, yeah?" The man raised his gun and shook his head.

"No," he said and pulled the trigger. The woman dove to the side, the strength of her glare increasing.

"That," she said, "was a mistake." Without further warning, she fried him with a massive bolt of electricity before standing up. His companions, hearing his choked off scream, split up, two remaining on Xander, the other two moving toward the blonde English woman. Xander, unable to hear more than the ringing in his ears due to repeated shotgun blasts to the head, seized the brief lull in shots to pounce on one man, using his momentum to smash his horned head into his attacker's face, pulping it instantly.

Meanwhile the blonde had taken refuge behind her car, glaring harder into the empty air every time a bullet hit her former transport. "Bloody yanks," she snarled, electricity arcing from her eyes briefly before she turned into a massive bolt of power and barbecued the two men alive.

"Should have turned off the radio, you pillocks!" she smirked at them before being blasted off her feet by six foot of scaled teenager bodychecking her in the stomach and into the ground.

"Get down!" Xander yelled as he raised his head, "sniper!" True to form, as soon as the words left his lips, the woman saw a bullet slam into his head, knocking him off her and down to the tarmac.

"That looked like it hurt," she mused when he groggily sat up, bringing a clawed hand to his face.

"Feels like being hit in the face by a speeding train," he slurred, giving her a dazed look. She snorted and raised herself to a squat behind the car.

"I bet," she said. "My name is Jenny Sparks."

"Xander," Xander said as he crouched next to her.

"So, you going to tell me why those arseholes decided to anoint my car?" Jenny asked, eyeballing the transformed teen beside her curiously. Xander gave her a weak smile in response.

"They're after me," he admitted. "Their boss had me turned into a freak and wanted to turn me into some kinda 'asset,'" he said. "And, uh, anoint?" he asked.

"They made it hole-y," Jenny quipped, tilting her head slightly. "He's on a building across the street," she said.

"How do you know?" Xander asked.

"I know everything," Jenny replied and then transformed into a crackling bolt of lighting, shooting up into the nearest streetlight and arcing her way toward the building. Xander goggled and watched the trail of electricity as it struck the rooftop with lethal finality before a shot from a gun smacked against his shoulder uselessly, drawing his attention to another group of gunmen, this time accompanied by a robed priest.

"Shit," he cursed, leaping away just as the robed man extended a hand and a white ribbon of energy whipped out in his direction. Landing next to a charred corpse, he yanked a gun from its blackened hands and fired, feeling his stomach drop when the bullets impacted harmlessly against an invisible shield. "Double shit," he said, diving away again to take refuge behind the front of the car.

"Well, this is a pickle, isn't it?" Jenny's English voice muttered by his side, making him start in surprise.

"Christ, Jenny! How did you do that?" Xander demanded. She gave him an annoyed glare.

"Will you shut up? And what the hell did you do to piss so many gods off?" she growled.

"I ate too many twinkies," he snapped back. "Now what the hell do we do?"

"We win," Jenny said, launching herself away from the car and rolling to her feet with two machine guns in her hand. Depressing both triggers, she jinked toward the car to avoid the return fire and managed to shoot one man in the foot. "Get up off of your sodding pansy arse and help, you little shit! If I get shot because of you I'll shove my packet of fags so far up your arse you'll eat them for breakfast!"

"How can I say no to that?" Xander mused to himself, using the car to springboard himself into the attacking group, loosing his temper when one shot him in the ear and spiking him in return through the eye with his right horn. From there the now familiar feeling of fury stole over his senses as he tore into those nearest him, exulting in the screams and arterial sprays of blood that painted the area red.

"Bit much, don't you think?" Jenny said with one eyebrow raised as she gestured at the gore covered area. Xander grimaced and looked at his now shaking hands.

"I can't explain it," he muttered, "I just, they did this to me and I get so angry, and then I just…" he trailed off and gestured at the corpses nearby.

"Better learn some control there, Sunshine," Jenny said. Xander let his hands fall, still covered in gore, and nodded weakly.

"Yeah."

"So you going to tell me what's going on or do I have to beat it out of you?" Jenny asked. The blunt question brought a faint smile to Xander's face and he shrugged.

"I was supposed to go for a heart transplant," he said, "mine kinda died. Then I get sedated and wake up in agony as I turn into this," he waived his hands at his armoured body. "Then some grey-haired dude tells me that I'm part of some ritual and I'll never have to think again and the dudes in the robes used some mojo to catch me and keep me pinned down. So I shot the guy and got the hell out of dodge, you know?"

"Quite," Jenny muttered. "What then?

"I grab some clothes from home," he indicated his ruined jeans, "and try and find a car to get to my friends in LA. They went ahead to where the operation was supposed to take place, but I think that was all a hoax."

"How did they find you?" Jenny asked. Xander shrugged.

"Probably magic," he said. "So, uh, how do you do the voodoo that you do, do? Cause you're taking this all pretty well," he added. Jenny looked torn between being disgusted or amused at the twisted sentence.

"Natural talent," she said, "and this sort of thing happens fairly often, in all honesty." The blonde looked around at the carnage. "No sirens, I notice," she commented. Xander grimaced.

"Yeah, the Sunnydale PD are pretty worthless, far as we're concerned. My friends I mean. We, uh, kill bad things," he added.

"Despite their uselessness, it's never a good idea to stand at ground zero. People tend to point fingers, then shoot and ask questions later as far as meta-humans are concerned. Let me grab my things," Jenny said.

"You're coming with me?" Xander asked, surprised that a random stranger, even a super-powered one, would simply up and offer to help.

"Of course I am, you idiot. They had radios and probably reported that I helped you. I'd rather not have some backstabbing little shits attack me in my sleep because I decided to be a good Samaritan," Jenny scoffed. "Wankers totalled my car," she growled. "And they shredded all of my clothes. I'm looking for payback," she said, lifting up an bag riddled with bullet holes from the trunk. Xander gave her a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Miss Sparks," he said. The blonde pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one with a spark from her finger.

"Call me Jenny," she insisted. "And now we need to find another car. The rental company's going to be after my arse for this," she said. Xander nodded.

"Okay, we can try a couple of other places," he said, gesturing down the road. Grabbing a miraculously untouched packet of cigarettes from the well ventilated bag, Jenny followed.

"So, bad things, huh?" she said as she stuffed them in her back pocket, her cigarette dangling from her lips. "How's that working out for you?"

"What do you mean a woman helped him escape?" Holland snarled, pulling Chevoy closer by his black jumper.

"A woman capable of controlling and turning herself to electricity aided him in wiping out the forward team, sir," the head of the security detail explained.

"And the monk?" Holland asked.

"Also dead, sir. Harris massacred that half of the team by himself."

"Unacceptable. Use whatever resources you need, but capture Harris alive. Get the woman, too, if you can. We cannot let Ashardolon's power slip from our grasp!" Holland ordered, slumping slightly against the side of his limousine and massaging his eyes wearily. "Father," he called, waiting until the robed figure had emerged from the shadows, "can you tell me how this debacle happened?" the figure nodded its head.

"We did not anticipate that the child's body would assimilate the heart of the great wyrm so quickly. The ritual to subdue and chain the creature should have been complete by the time that the physical manifestations began to occur. Instead they happened immediately before we could complete our preparations," the figures rasping voice replied.

"Can he be contained?" Holland asked, glancing between Chevoy and the robed figure, who nodded.

"He can, Wolfram and Hart. Though he is indestructible, he is vulnerable to our magics. If your men can keep him still for long enough, he will be ours by dawn," it said. Holland stared at Chevoy, awaiting his answer.

"My men can pin them down, sir," he said, "the woman should pose no trouble if the priests can prevent her powers from touching us."

"We will assist," the robed figure murmured. Holland smiled grimly.

"Excellent news, gentlemen. Well, shall we catch our little escapee?" he said. The two nodded and withdrew, leaving Holland alone with his two vampire bodyguards.

Fifteen minutes after they left the seven-eleven, Xander and Jenny found themselves sprinting along the back alleys of Sunnydale, away from the dogged pursuit of the black clad commandoes.

"When this is over with I'm going to shove a gun up your arse," Jenny panted as she ran.

"I said I was sorry!" Xander snapped as they headed toward the nearest alley entrance.

"You bloody well will be!" Jenny said, flinching slightly as bullets smashed into the nearest wall, showering her with debris as she ran. They burst out onto the street but found their pursuers there also, piling out of three large black transit vans, accompanied by the suddenly omnipresent robed figures that they had found were able to stop her electrical attacks.

Xander swore and dove on top of her as the group opened fire, gritting his teeth as the more powerful rounds hit sensitive spots over his kidneys. "Get off me, you lummox," Jenny ground out, "I'll be fine!"

"Can you do the electric thing to get out of here?" Xander asked.

"Get off me or I fry your balls," Jenny ordered in response. Glancing over his shoulder, and seeing the robed figures sending the mystical chains at their prone figures, Xander grabbed the blonde and leapt, using his body to shield their heavy impact on a nearby parked car that provided a temporary refuge.

"Look, they're after me, right? I'll draw their fire and you escape," Xander said. Jenny gave him a disgusted look.

"Men," she muttered, "always being the bloody martyrs." She dashed a quick look through the windows of the car before ducking down again. "They've got a very, very big gun," she said. Xander looked for longer and felt his eyes widen.

"Oh, shit," he breathed as he spotted the large and very deadly looking mini-gun being pointed in their direction. "Get behind me!" he shouted, shoving his newfound ally behind him just as the car began to disintegrate under the hyper velocity rounds. Xander fought a scream as the bullets drilled into his body, driving them back until they hit the wall and making him dance like a puppet from each impact. Eventually the pain grew too much and he began to scream, the choked sound ripped forcefully from his throat at each burning explosion of pain.

He felt soft hands caress the back of his neck gently.

"Lets get you out of here, chum," Jenny whispered and then pressed the small button placed in the ornate silver bracelet she wore. "Onward and upward and all that." Even with his eyes screwed shut, Xander could see the blinding light building from behind him like a miniature sun until, with a flash that left him seeing spots dance in front of his eyes, the hail of bullets stopped and the scent of the ocean reached his nose.

"What?" he croaked in confusion as he opened his eyes to see they now stood on a picture perfect tropical beach. "What happened?"

"Guess you're joining me on my extended tour," Jenny's English drawl concluded from behind. Xander wobbled and sank to his knees, trying not to curl into a little ball and cry from the burning agony in his chest. "Here," Jenny said, "let me take a look." The blonde ran her fingers along the legion of craters scattered across his chest and stomach, her crystal blue eyes taking in the gouges the powerful gun had carved into his nearly indestructible scales.

"Took quite a battering, didn't you?" she muttered, giving Xander a disapproving glare.

"Better than you being jam," the teenager countered. Jenny shifted awkwardly and pursed her lips.

"True enough," she conceded, and then felt her eyebrows rise skyward as the damaged scales began to flake off, revealing their rapidly growing replacements. "Well, I guess that's not a problem anymore," Jenny said, fingering a discarded scale in bemusement. Xander slumped slightly, feeling exhausted.

"You didn't answer my question," he said. "What happened?" he repeated. Jenny pursed her lips as she sought to explain.

"Oh bugger it," she muttered. "it's pretty simple, really. I'm from a different dimension and this little trinket," here she held up her wrist, displaying the ornate silver bracelet, "is helping me find my way home. Each time I jump dimension, it takes me closer to my home dimension. No idea how many more it'll be till I'm there, though," she admitted.

Xander hauled himself to his feet and glared at the blonde.

"And where are we now?" he demanded.

"No clue, mate," Jenny admitted. "Another dimension, though," Xander grit his teeth so hard he wondered if they would crack under the pressure.

"How do I get home?" he demanded. Jenny withdrew a cigarette from the packet in her back pocket and lit it to cover her wince.

"Probably the same way I am, since I have no clue where we are. Keep going until you find it. Been going two years, so far," she said. "Though you'll probably need one of these," she said, indicating the bracelet again.

"So I'm stuck here?" Xander asked, his voice deceptively calm. Jenny eyed him cautiously.

"Until it recharges, yeah. And don't you try anything, Sunshine. I might be grateful for saving my arse, but it doesn't mean I won't fry your balls like a couple of eggs!" she said.

"And when will it be charged?" Xander asked, struggling to hold on to his temper. The blonde woman glanced at the bracelet and looked less than happy.

"About two years," she said.

"Fuck," Xander cursed.

"No shit," Jenny agreed, taking a drag of her cigarette with a scowl.

Author's note: This is set around about the time that Jenny is dimension hopping in her early twenties. By this time she has already married Prince Lorenzo of Sliding Albion and earned the rank of Colonel in British Intelligence by 19.

Well, let me know what you think! As Tenhawk says: Feedback is the coin of the realm!


	4. Chapter 4

Dragonheart, a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction.

Disclaimer: Buffy is owned by Joss Whedon and Co. Other characters are copywrite of their respective inventors. This story is not written for profit but merely for entertainment.

Chapter 4

Willow fidgeted as she waited for Giles to return from reception, her eyes darting around to alight on med students, doctors, nurses and distraught family members, all rushing to and fro from their destinations.

Beside her, Buffy nibbled on her lip and kneaded the fleshy pillow between her left thumb and forefinger in an attempt to distract herself from worrying about her other best friend. Her thoughts running around in circles as she berated herself, thinking that there was something else she could have done.

"I shouldn't have run to Giles first," she muttered as tears prickled at the corner of her eyes. She sensed Willow turning toward her curiously and sniffed. "When he collapsed I thought it could have been some kind of magical attack or something, so I took him to Giles. Makes sense in our lives, you know?" she asked. The blurry red outline of her friend nodded silently. "But, but Giles said it wasn't, and then it was too late and we had to get him to the hospital and he, and he," she trailed off into sobs as guilt rose up and overcame her self composure.

She felt grateful when Willow pulled her closer and whispered soothing sounds in her ear, letting herself go completely and sobbing into her best friend's shoulder for several minutes before she managed to gather the tatters of her self control and give the redhead a somewhat watery smile.

"Thanks, Willow," she said. Willow, teary-eyed herself, smiled back encouragingly.

"What're friends for, right? Don't worry, Xander's going to pull through, you'll see!" she encouraged. Her bravado began to fade however, when she saw Giles returning, a worried look on his face. "Giles? What's wrong?" she asked. The older man came to a stop before them and removed his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose wearily.

"It appears that we may have a problem," he said heavily. "According to the nurses, Xander was never brought here. There are no records of any transfer requests either, which leads me to believe that something untoward may have occurred," he explained.

"What do you mean, Giles?" Buffy said, her eyes glittering dangerously. Replacing his glasses, Giles studied her seriously.

"it means that somebody has Xander, and we don't know who. I already called Sunnydale general, and they confirm that he was transferred shortly after we left. They also have no record of a Dr. Henderson," he finished grimly. Buffy's hand tightened into a fist so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Someone's gonna bleed," she growled. Giles regarded her levelly for a moment and pursed his lips.

"Normally I would remonstrate you for resorting to violence, but in this case, I quite agree, Buffy. Come, we must hurry if we are to find young Xander," he said, gathering his jacket from where he had placed it on the seat next to her and ushering the girls towards the exit, their faces set with determination.

Jenny sighed and took another drag on her cigarette as she tried to enjoy the view. As far as locations went, it was comparable to paradise. Deep blue ocean and soft, white sandy beach. Cloudless blue sky and tropical palms dotted around the place. Even a forest about fifty feet behind her. Or a jungle, depending on how you looked at it. She squinted and glanced back. Definitely a jungle.

A glance at her pocket watch told her that Xander had been gone for nearly twenty minutes since he stormed off in a snit over the revelation that they were no longer in his home dimension. Time to go to work.

With a sigh, the blonde heaved herself to her feet and finished off her cigarette with a heroic breath, stubbing it out in the sand. a moment of searching allowed her to locate her companion's tracks and she set off toward the tree line.

"He better appreciate this," she groused softly to herself as she walked, carefully picking her way over the increasingly dense foliage that the younger man had just seen fit to crash through like a bull in a china shop. "He's got a lot to learn," Jenny said, finally coming across the young American. "Bloody hell," she complained as she beheld the sheer devastation before her.

Crouched in the centre of it all, Xander glowered from beneath snowy white brows, his clawed hands flexing eagerly. Around him were the shredded remains of the various trees and surrounding vegetation, obviously the recipients of whatever fury he had decided to unleash.

"You moron," Jenny said, "if anyone didn't know we were here, they bloody well do now!"

"Shut up!" Xander snarled, standing and peeling back his lips to reveal a pair of pearly white fangs. Jenny's nostrils flared and she marched forward fearlessly.

"Now you listen here, Sunshine!" she snapped angrily, poking the draconic teen in an armoured shoulder. "I was saving your scaly arse when I took you with me, you ungrateful little bastard! I could have left you there to get shot to pieces, but I didn't. Show some god damn gratitude!" By the time she wound down, Jenny found herself practically nose to nose with the transformed teenager, his red, reptilian eyes burning with repressed fury.

Catching a slight motion from the corner of her eyes, Jenny bared her teeth. "Going to hit me, chum?" she jeered, moving back and gesturing to herself expansively. "Go on then! Let it rip!" She watched his right arm jerk in an abortive movement. "I'll warn you though, you hit me and I'll crush you, you little shit," she warned coolly, her muscles tense.

After an eternal moment, she watched Xander sag slightly, his angry expression collapsing into self-loathing and she let out a tiny puff of air. "Look, I get it," she said softly, her blue eyes gazing at him with compassion, "you've been through shit. But I hate to say it, shit happens and you move on. So move on," she encouraged. Xander barker out a harsh laugh and fixed her with a bitter smile.

"I don't think you do," he said. "I fight things that look like me. Demons. Vampires. Things that go bump in the night! And now I am one! I'm not even human any more! What am I?" he raged, his expression darkening once more. "I don't even understand myself! All I want to do is let go and, and just destroy everything! This isn't me! This isn't me, goddamn it!" he roared. Jenny stared at him expressionlessly for several moments before speaking.

"So? Shit happens, move on. You got the hard graft, I get it. Not human any more, boo-hoo. You know what? I've known people who look weirder than you do. They weren't any less human than I am, so shut your gob and pull yourself together!" she said. Xander looked at her for a moment, and then looked at his transformed hands as they flexed under his direction.

"I'm scared," he admitted softly. Jenny stepped closer and lifted his chin with a silky hand.

"I know," she said. "But you'll get through it. It could be worse. You still have your human face, right?" the blonde asked. Xander quirked a lop-sided grin.

"Yeah, not that that's such a great thing. Never did me any favours," he joked. Jenny rolled her eyes.

"Probably because you're too busy kicking your own arse," she pointed out. "it's all about attitude. Now, are you done yet? 'cause I'd rather we weren't in the same place where you made a crap load of noise when the locals come a calling." Xander drew in a deep breath and straightened up.

"Yeah, okay," he said. "So, where too?" he asked. Jenny glanced around and pointed at the tallest tree.

"Reckon you can get me up there sharpish?" she asked. Xander squinted up at it and nodded.

"Yeah, I think so. I've gotten a better feel for how strong I am, now," he said. Jenny pinned him with a level look.

"Do I look like a horseshoe to you? You throw me and I'll kill you," she threatened. "You have claws, you idiot. Climb it," she ordered. Xander blinked and gave her a sheepish smile.

"Oh, yeah okay," he said.

"'Yeah, okay,' he says," Jenny mocked as they approached the tree and she looped her arms around his neck. "Hurry up, will you, Sunshine? We need to get an idea of where we are before we get caught."

"Paranoid, much?" Xander asked as he began to scale the huge tree, his talons slicing easily through the bark as he went. Jenny gave an unladylike snort.

"In my profession, paranoia keeps you alive, Sunshine," she said.

"Oh yeah? Sounds familiar," Xander admitted. "And why the hell do you keep calling me Sunshine? My name's Xander," he said. "C'mon, I did save your life," he cajoled. Jenny made a thoughtful noise.

"True. And then I saved yours," she returned, her lips quirking into a grin. Xander grumbled as he hauled them onto a branch that looked like it could handle their weight.

"Good enough?" he asked, turning to the blonde. She made an assenting noise, her attentions turned to their surroundings as she scanned for likely shelter. Engrossed as she was, she didn't miss the expression on her companion's face as he took in her appearance. Despite her clothes being ripped and scuffed, Jenny knew that she was highly attractive, and it appeared that, now the urgency of the situation and his subsequent breakdown had passed, the young teen now knew it as well.

"Stop staring, it's not polite," she murmured absently, shooting him an amused smirk at the embarrassed look that settled across his face. He didn't blush though, and she wondered if that was partly due to his unique makeup. She felt it a shame, as she rather enjoyed making men blush.

"Er, sorry," Xander stammered. Jenny waived a hand dismissively.

"Don't be. I'm a prize and I know it," she said.

"Modest, too," Xander said, amused. Jenny grinned.

"Who needs modesty?" she said. "You live the life we live and you can't expect to live until tomorrow all the time. Besides, are you saying I'm not a prize?" she asked, arching a golden eyebrow. Involuntarily, Xander's eyes flickered over his companion's trim body before he caught himself, causing Jenny to give a throaty chuckle. "I rest my case," she said, returning her gaze to the jungle that surrounded them. "Over there, I think I see some kind of building," Jenny said, shading her eyes and squinting into the distance.

Xander glanced in the direction she indicated and nodded.

"Yeah, I see it," he said. "Looks modern," he commented. Jenny gave him an appraising look.

"How well can you see?" she asked. Xander shrugged.

"I don't know. I can't see it in crystal clarity, or anything, but I can see that it's made of metal, maybe steel?" he said, peering at the distant object.

"Guess we'd better get going, then," Jenny said, looping her arms around his neck again. Now fully aware of her attractiveness, Xander tensed, his throat bobbing nervously as he felt her chest pressing against his back. "Oh would you relax?" Jenny admonished, her mouth stretching into a smug grin as the possibilities began occurring to her.

"Easy for you to say," Xander muttered as he began to descend, the blonde's scent filling his senses, a combination of roses and something inherently female that spoke to his male instincts on a primal level. By the time they reached the ground, Xander decided that it would be good for his sanity if he put as much space between himself and Jenny as was possible without being rude.

"Try not to barge through the forest like an elephant, would you?" Jenny asked from behind as she released her hold and stepped back slightly. Gaining no response, she frowned and peered over his shoulder. "Ah," she said. "Are those?"

"Yes," Xander replied shortly, his eyes fixed on the two creatures staring at them from the foliage. Four to five feet tall, clawed and feathered forearms and long, reptilian snouts covered in small feathers. "Deinonychus," he stated.

"Bad?" Jenny asked.

"Very," Xander replied. The blonde glanced about and paused.

"There are more," she warned. Xander's eyes flickered sideways.

"There would be. They hunt in packs," he said. His eyes darted again. "I count five. Two in front, two to the left, one on the right. You?" he asked.

"Seven. They're spread out to cut off our escape," Jenny said. Xander cursed softly, his eyes boring into those of the lead animal.

"Can you fry them?" he said. Jenny licked her lips.

"Depends. How fast are they?" she asked, realising that he seemed to have some idea of what they were capable of.

"Very. They can jump us from where they are in seconds," he replied.

"Then no," the blonde admitted. "One, maybe two. If there was power around it wouldn't be a problem, although I'd fry you too," she said. Xander grimaced.

"Hard way it is, then," he said. "Get back up the tree," he ordered, spotting several more animals slowly creeping into jumping distance. Jenny, realising that she was far more vulnerable to their teeth and claws, silently acquiesced and backed toward the tree slowly. Turning around, she froze.

"Xander," she said urgently. "We have a problem." The teen glanced over his shoulder and bit back a curse at the sight of another staring at them from beside the tree.

"Stay close. Just tell me where they're coming from," Xander said, his eyes meeting hers for a split second. The moment of distraction was all the pack needed, the lead male launching himself at Xander's unguarded flank.

A split second later, Xander snarled and whipped out a clawed hand in an arc behind him, tearing through flesh and bone in a single, brutal stroke. Hot arterial blood splattered across his face as he span to catch the second dinosaur by the neck, its sharp claws skittering across his chest scales impotently. A quick twist snapped it's neck as another slammed into his shoulders, its needle sharp teeth scraping over the scales at the back of his neck.

Shrugging the animal off violently, Xander slid past Jenny as she blasted two that had jumped at her with thick jolts of electricity as wide as his arm, his leg lashing out and eviscerating another, spilling its bowels over his leg and sending the stench of offal into the air.

Jenny cursed as a third animal dodged her hastily thrown bolt and clamped down on her forearm, its teeth slicing through the material easily and puncturing the vulnerable flesh beneath. She twisted, trying to stay away from the disembowelling claws on its legs as she gouged at its eye with her right thump in an attempt to dislodge it, only to blink as a clawed hand screamed past her face and crushed the top part of the creature's skull.

Prying the remains from her arm, she risked a brief smile of thanks to her companion, but he was covered in several of their attackers, his face twisted with rage as he systematically shredded them to pieces, his hair and face splattered with gore. Less than a minute after they had first attacked, Jenny stood against the tree, her arm bleeding freely from the deep punctures to her skin, watching as Xander pulped the skull of the last of his assailants.

"Not too shabby," she called, attracting his attention. He turned toward her, his face contorted into an enraged snarl, eyes burning with fury. In the blink of an eye he sprang at her, too quick for her to raise an arm to blast him away. Instead of feeling ten claws snapping her ribs like twigs however, she found herself squashed up against the tree bark, ruby red eyes boring into her own from a hairsbreadth away.

His nostrils flared, sucking in her scent, and she felt a husky laugh bubble up from her chest. "You smell like a sewer," she pointed out. His eyes creased in a slight smile and he drew back, the remains of two more dinosaurs clutched in either hand. "Ah," she said. "Missed those."

"Yeah," he agreed, "you did. Did you think I was coming for you?" he asked. Jenny glanced at her wound, the flow of blood alarmingly rapid, and then back up as her head began to become lightheaded.

"Thought did cross my mind," she admitted, slouching against the bark. "Don't suppose you have a suture kit, do you?" she asked, gesturing to her bleeding arm. Xander grimaced and shook his head.

"No, but I've had my share of injuries. Take off your jacket," he instructed, taking said garment and shredding the damaged garment into strips with his claws. After a moment, he began firmly wrapping them around the punctures, carefully manipulating the razor sharp claws to avoid further damaging the material. "Tie this," he muttered, holding a loose knot in place with one finger.

Jenny wordlessly did as she was bid, grasping one end in her teeth and pulling it tight with a pained grunt. She continued another three times until the wound was completely covered, the grey material swiftly darkening with blood.

"Still bleeding," she pointed out, beginning to feel hot and sticky. Xander looked at her with concern, taking in her pallor and the light sheen of sweat beginning to appear on her skin.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll tie a tourniquet," he added, looping a thick rope of material around her arm above the elbow, the fabric bunched thick enough that he could tie it unaided. With a tug, he pulled it tight and ducked his head to stare directly into Jenny's eyes. "We need to wash out the bite," he said. "Did you see water, anywhere?" he asked. Jenny blinked ponderously, her mind feeling sluggish.

"Yeah," she said, indicating over her right shoulder. "That way."

"Okay," Xander said, "I think there was something in the bite. Just hang tight, okay?" He scooped the blonde woman up in his arms, glancing around the devastated clearing with an expression of distaste before setting off. Jenny cradled her wounded arm against her chest, trying to breathe through her mouth to avoid the stomach turning smell emanating from her companion.

"You smell like shit," she commented, staring up at him through lidded eyes. Xander grimaced.

"Yeah, you said that already," he said. "Find me a shower and I'll clean up, hey?" Jenny smirked and worked on staying conscious and vaguely lucid, though the slight blurring at the edge of her vision indicated that lucidity might be a pipe dream shortly.

"I'll be fine, you know," she said, her crystal blue eyes flickering lazily over the jungle scenery that flashed past with semi-interest. "I'm pretty hardy."

"Yeah, well, better safe than sorry, right?" Xander returned. Jenny nodded and blinked away a drop of sweat that ran into her eye.

"How do I look?" she asked, glancing down and noting the numerous patches of sweat appearing all over her shirt. Xander looked at her and thinned his lips.

"You look fine," he replied shortly, increasing his pace and tearing through the jungle as fast as was possible. Jenny barked a laugh and rested her head on his shoulder, managing to avoid the several patches of congealing blood splattered across it.

"Liar," she accused, then squinted against the suddenly harsh sunlight as they burst from the trees and out onto a large stretch of grassland. "That was quick," she said, faintly surprised and blinked up at the young teen. Xander smirked, briefly looking down before continuing to sweep the area for the water Jenny said she had seen. It didn't take him long, as he spotted the lake just over a mile away, a trio of huge long-necked dinosaurs walking straight through it.

"Jesus, where are we, the land before time?" he asked, his wide reptilian eyes alighting on five different species of dinosaur dotted around the area.

"I'll have to tell Arthur about this," Jenny murmured, a mild grin on her face.

"Arthur?" Xander asked.

"Wrote a book about dinosaurs a few years ago. Went down fairly well, actually," Jenny replied as Xander set out toward the lake at a fair run. She winced as the motion jogged her arm slightly, but kept quiet.

"Cool," Xander said. The pair lapsed into silence as he ran, avoiding the small herd of duck-billed animals that roamed across the small plain to arrive at the edge of the water. "I hope this is clean," he muttered, gently lowering Jenny to the ground before plunging into the water to remove the thick coating of blood and gore, scrubbing himself thoroughly with a nearby cluster of reeds.

Jenny watched, propped up on one elbow until he emerged again, water cascading from his armoured body in thick rivulets, a faint smile on her face as he moved closer.

"My turn?" she asked. "I hope you don't expect to watch," she added. Xander rolled his eyes.

"As if I would live long enough to enjoy it," he muttered, easily looping his arms beneath her and carrying her to the water's edge. With care he managed to remove the makeshift bandages, exposing the still bleeding wound to the air. "At least the bleeding's slowed," he commented, positioning Jenny's arm over the water and scooping up a double handful of water. Jenny grunted, hissing slightly when he began trickling the water over the red gashes, the water turning pink as it dribbled into the lake below.

"thanks," she said when she felt they were clean enough. Xander smiled at her, his ruby eyes glinting with warmth.

"Anytime," he replied.

"We'd better move if we want to make the building we saw by nightfall," Jenny said. "Can you tear off the arm of this shirt so I can dress the wound?" she asked. Xander nodded and carefully used his claws to slice the right arm of the shirt off at the shoulder. Jenny smiled in thanks and, feeling a little more clear headed, carefully wrapped her forearm, tucking the makeshift bandage to keep it secure. "Right. Give me a sec and we'll be off," she said, leaning down toward the water and splashing her face and neck to remove some of the sweat. "Bloody hot here," she muttered.

Xander grinned, his eyes on the front of the now semi-transparent shirt. He was saved grievous bodily harm by the panicked calls of the herbivores across the plain that preceded an earth shattering roar. Glancing back, the snowy-haired teen groaned as he beheld the sight of an enormous rampaging tyrannosaurus rex.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" he complained as he watched the great beast try to run down a small pack of creatures that nimbly managed to avoid its cavernous maw. The pack wheeled, racing toward the lake where their webbed feet and hands would give them further advantages. "Oh shit," Xander cursed, realising that they were directly in the huge predator's path just as it fixed its beady eyes on his red and black form. "Today is not my day!" he shouted as the beast roared and lunged.

Author's Note: Well, I seem to be on a roll here! So I hope that you like it. If you do, please review, as it only encourages me to write more!


	5. Chapter 5

Dragonheart, a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction.

Disclaimer: Buffy is owned by Joss Whedon and Co. other characters are copywrite of their respective inventors. This story is not written for profit but merely for entertainment.

Chapter 5

Conscious of his far more vulnerable companion's position behind him, Xander darted forward to meet the gigantic predator, hoping to take a shot at its legs as he attempted to avoid becoming its latest chew toy. As all plans, it went to pieces the moment he drew near enough for the beast to reach, much to his ire.

With surprising speed, the tyrannosaur snapped out with its massive jaws and nearly swallowed him whole in one bite. Sadly for both parties, the transformed teen's reflex action had been to drop to his knees, meaning he now found his legs kicking impotently in mid air, his torso pinned by three huge teeth. Had it not been for the crushing pressure on his ribcage, Xander might have found the situation funny as he suddenly found himself shaken like a rag-doll as the dinosaur tried to tear him in half.

Struggling to breathe, Xander began to writhe and kick as he attempted to get some leverage to force the tyrannosaur's mouth open, shortly finding that doing so at the same time as being shaken was an exercise in futility. A moment after arriving at that conclusion, his panic became subsumed by a rising tide of red hot anger as the stinking, putrid scent of the maw in which he was trapped began fading away from his concentration.

Bad enough that his day started off shitty and slid down the slippery slope to gut-busting excrement levels, now he was being eaten? Xander stilled for a fraction of a second before exploding in a rage-induced frenzy. A wrathful howl clawed its way from his parted lips just as the claws on his toes found purchase on the rex's face, enabling him to forcefully twist and sink the talons on his fingers into the sensitive gums of the giant predator's jaws. Hot blood cascaded across his face yet again, followed by a pained roar as the tyrannosaur's jaws slackened, allowing him to slip free.

Plummeting to the ground from nearly twenty feet, Xander bucked as he fell, rotating his torso enough to bring his foe into sight. Red eyes alight with fury, he allowed his lips to peel back in a menacing snarl and barely even acknowledged the bone-jarring impact of hitting the ground as he let rip a challenging roar of his own.

Not even thinking through his actions, he charged as soon as the thunderous sound died down, pushing off of the ground with his left foot as hard as he could and launching himself thirty feet into the air directly at the creature's head.

* * *

Jenny stared, slightly wide-eyed as she watched Xander charge at the massive animal just as it did. She almost expected him to make it as well, until the huge head dipped and snapped him up like he was nothing.

"No!" she exclaimed, taking an involuntary step forward until the head came up and she saw the two wriggling legs that stuck out. She couldn't see any blood, which was a plus, but then realised that with the youngster's colouring she would be hard pressed to unless it was a very different colour than before. The tyrannosaur shook its head, obviously attempting to kill the small morsel in its mouth by snapping whatever bones the boy had and when both legs became limp, jenny felt a stab of something indefinable for a second before they began thrashing furiously, obviously attempting to free their owner from his confinement. A grin cracked her face when both feet found purchase on the creature's lip and pushed, tearing large gashes in the soft flesh accompanied by a spurt of dark blood and a roar of pain. Jaws opening, she saw another gout of blood pump over the flailing tongue of the beast and found a chuckle puff past her lips as her companion dropped like a stone to the ground.

Before she could make a move however, Xander opened his mouth and issued forth a roar just as loud as the great predator before him. What easily outclassed it however, was the obvious blood-curdling malice that resonated throughout the sound. Blonde eyebrows reaching for her hairline, jenny found herself momentarily stunned at the sheer volume produced by the young meta-human. And then he charged again.

"Oh for the love of," jenny groaned, relatively heedless to the peril she was in being so close to the titanic clash. "Men!" she watched as the snowy-haired teen sprang into a truly impressive pounce that took him some thirty feet into the air, and then palmed her face when the cavernous maw opened and snapped him up again, this time whole. "Idiot," she muttered. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she didn't feel particularly worried. If he could survive the animal's crushing teeth then he could certainly handle its soft and vulnerable insides.

Her thoughts were proven correct when not ten seconds later the tyrannosaur gave a mighty jerk and a terrified bellow that swiftly degenerated into mindless panicked thrashing as Xander tore its innards to fleshy ribbons and burst his way right out of its chest with a triumphant bellow, hands wrapped around the twisted remnants of a rib split messily in twain.

If she expected him to stop there however, she was sadly mistaken as she watched him brutally slaughter the dying beast, rending anything within reach to bloody gore and smash its enormous skull to a pink pulpy mass. Her stomach roiled uncomfortably at the sight and she grimaced, turning away.

A few moments later, he lurched into the corner of her vision and vomited the contents of his stomach out into the reeds at the waterside.

"All done?" she asked tartly as she watched him recover slightly. At her words his face twisted and he began dry heaving again, attempting to purge something that just wasn't there. "Guess not," she muttered, subsiding into silence and waiting for him to finish. After a moment of resting his clawed hands on his knees, Xander wobbled into the water and washed himself off for the second time that day. "That's becoming a habit, you know," jenny found herself remarking. He paused, back to her, and stood in silence for several long seconds of silence.

"I know," he replied eventually, his tone troubled. Jenny tried blinking away the exhaustion in her eyes before speaking.

"Want to talk about it?" she offered. Xander glanced at her over his shoulder, the vivid red of his irises somehow seeming desolate and horrified, and then dropped his gaze to the mass of torn flesh behind her.

"No," he said flatly, his face stony. Jenny pursed her lips but said nothing, deciding that now was not the time to press matters.

"So, now what?" she asked.

"Now you tell me what has brought you to the Savage Lands," a new, cultured voice demanded from above. Jenny jerked her head up in surprise to stare at the helmed and caped figure floating above.

"Bugger it," she muttered.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know it's been a while in coming! I shall be working on my other stories as well, don't worry! Soon, soon! You could ply my muse with reviews if you want something faster though!


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